


a wanton's bird

by Profundus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, My wife and I are starved for this ship: The Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profundus/pseuds/Profundus
Summary: Kuroo talks poetry on sunny mornings and Bokuto is the perfect audience.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	a wanton's bird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tisapear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisapear/gifts).



Light on silver-black tips of hair and skin that just won't tan as much as Kuroo's _all the better for leaving marks_ and he drags his fingertips over curves and edges and whispers _good morning good morning my little night owl_ against the sweat of too many blankets on their bed but Bokuto loves it, loves their nest, loves the little hollows filled with overflowing love and that Kuroo has to sleep closer if there's less space.

He reaches over, arm still heavy with sleep, nudging the open book, the dog-eared pages, the charm he uses as a bookmark Bokuto fell asleep on, warm soft red cheek pressed against it and _you laugh at me for reading Shakespeare and Dante and Homer_ marred with the imprint of the charm's edge.

Little charm, little love, little high school hearts beating to the same rhythm, little worn copies of poetry collections in Kuroo's bag and little notes being passed during practice matches _love you no I love you I love you more I love you even more love you much more than that love you most of all_ and little kisses in between long bus rides with memories of ghosting lips that linger before the parting pain.

Bokuto stirs but doesn't wake and Kuroo laughs a tender laugh when he hides from the light, the light that dances on his skin like it's the stage for a display of beauty _oh but isn't it isn't he beautiful isn't he just handsome isn't he isn't he_ and Kuroo rests his head on Bokuto's shoulder.

"Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt the sun doth move, doubt truth to be liar, but never doubt my love," he mutters, drawing lovely patterns on the skin that's solely his, his to touch, his to kiss, his to embrace in the solace of their nest.

"Shakespeare."

He hasn't moved, only his lips curling, curving, knowledge sweet and so ingrained because that's how Kuroo wakes him and Bokuto needs no alarm clock when there's an utterly besotted man curled against his back who wakes at dawn to watch the first sunray kiss his skin like it's a sight he's never seen before _it makes him happy it makes me happy it's just us it's our happiness_ but Kuroo nips his neck and chuckles.

"Of course."

He doesn't stop there, he never does, fingers wandering, pressing, burning, tracing every kiss he's left last night _as if you don't remember you always do you remember all my kisses and I love you for it_ and the night before and every night before that.

Kuroo toys with the charm, saturated with his scent, their scent _there's a difference?_ that he's given Bokuto on the first night they've shared, so dramatically plastered with words he thought to be the only truth of his life.

_'Tis almost morning;_  
_I would have thee gone_  
_And yet no further than a wanton's bird_  
_Who lets it hop a little from her hand_  
_Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves_  
_And with a silk thread plucks it back again_  
_So loving-jealous of his liberty_

It's hard to never know the freedom of self-sufficiency, of doubtless love, to crave and despise the presence of his boyfriend, to want him as far away as the world allows while dragging him in as close as their bodies will fit.

There's a second truth now, and the truth is that he loves and the third is that he's loved in return because Bokuto rolls over and cups his face and returns all the kisses Kuroo has given _as if they didn't belong to you already my love_ and will give today.

There's sunlight on the windowpane and poetry carved into Bokuto's heart where Kuroo has made his home years ago.

_I would I were thy bird_

**Author's Note:**

> My wife wanted Bokuroo. I wanted Bokuroo. And I wanted poetry nerd Kuroo. I made Bokuroo. And poetry nerd Kuroo.
> 
> Hey babe. I love youuuuu.


End file.
